


Sassenach, What Is A...

by writersblxck



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-06 00:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15874395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writersblxck/pseuds/writersblxck
Summary: A series of one-shots of Jamie asking Claire about inventions of the future





	1. Trampoline

I took Jemmy from his mother’s arms and danced around in a sort of circle, in an attempt to soothe the babe. It had come to my attention that my grandson was in the process of acquiring another tooth: this one seeming to cause him a lot more pain than the last. The lack of quiet from his screaming mouth was making all parties frustrated. Brianna and Roger seemed to be taking out the lack of sleep on each other so the least I could do was offer them time spent alone, whilst I made an effort to calm down Jemmy.

“There, there, it’s alright,” I spoke calmly, perching on the edge of a chair Jamie had ever so carefully carved from the forest wood just down from the Ridge. A dab hand at it too, if I could say so myself. Making something so comfortable from something so rough to begin with. Still, it wasn’t surprising, given how talented I had come to find my husband to be. At almost everything, it seemed.

I smoothed the folds of my shawl so it was flat and rocked back and forth with Jemmy in my lap. He regularly had a fist in his mouth nowadays, gnawing a gummy bite around his clenched hand and dribbling drool over whomever was holding him. At this moment, that was me. Between these noisy sucks, he’d also taken to babbling in his own language… a sound that always made me giggle. And if I laughed, he’d offer me a confused frown, as though he expected me to understand what he was saying, and then he’d be frustrated that I didn’t.

He certainly wasn’t a small baby either. I knew he had found the use of his legs already, from the attempts he made to kick them about in every direction and one could end up with a jerk to the face if you weren’t careful. Unfortunately Roger had been the victim of his most forceful one, resulting in a nose bleed that had taken three of my linen cloths to extinguish.

As if on cue with my thoughts, Jemmy got restless and I stood him up instead so his bare feet were doing a baby dance on the tops of my thighs. He continued with his wordless gabble and the hand that wasn’t stuffed in his mouth was curled into a fist and was punching the air. My face curved into a smile behind him, his small feet dug into my legs but it was funny that I didn’t seem to mind.

“Good God Jemmy,” I said aloud, laughing with him. “I’m not a trampoline!”

When a small snort came from behind me, I knew we weren’t alone. But I could tell whom the snort belonged to from anywhere. I shifted position so both the babe and I could see the doorway.

As soon as Jemmy set eyes on his grandfather, I knew he would want to go to him instead. Whether it was perhaps he spent more time with me rather than my husband, or often Jamie was away from the ridge doing business or something, Jemmy was always excited to see him. This time was no different and the small fist covered in drool came to join the other one outside of the mouth and he clapped his hands together. Jamie eased down beside me and I passed him his grandchild, leaning over to kiss him gently when my hands were free.

“Come here ye wee lad,” Jamie scooped the baby into his own hold and held him at arm’s length at first, as if to look at him. “It seems ye’ve grown since I last seen ye,” he studied Jemmy’s face and I watched his features melt, like they always seemed to do when he looked at him.

“That was only this morning,” I reminded him, thinking back to the breakfast we’d shared at the Ridge. Though Jamie was often busy tending to matters of the colonies, his actions always made me remember that his family came first.

“Aye Sassenach,” he brought the baby close to sit on his knee but he was looking at me. “But babies grow so fast I feel like he’s changed already since then, ye ken?”

He was right of course. There were three babies at the Ridge now, and something seemed to change about them with each passing day.

Jamie balanced Jemmy under the grip of one arm and brought his other one towards me. He pushed away a curl from my face, I had obviously forgotten to redo a hairstyle since this morning after tending to patients and sitting the babes. Then he tilted my chin as if to look at my face and grinned, his eyes narrowing.

“Sassenach,” he began. The name he’d always used to address me- rather than Claire- a term he’d used countlessly but one that still managed to send a wave of shivers down my spine. “What the devil is a trampoline?”

The word had obviously never left his mouth before and the way he said it made me burst into laughter. He said it as though it were three separate words tramp-per-line and it was amusing to hear. I realized then that was what Jamie had been laughing at: the sound of a word he wasn’t accustom with, something he hadn’t heard of before.

“Oh,” I put a hand over Jamie’s, the one that now rested on the very spot Jemmy had been jumping on minutes before. “It’s a jumping device. There is tight fabric between steel frames and coils as such. They’re a few feet from the ground. You bounce up and down in the center. Brianna had one when she was little.”

“Aye?” his ears seemed to prick up at the mention of his daughter. “It sounds dangerous.”

“Not really,” I reassured him, recalling our daughter’s face a picture of delight when she’d discovered part of her fifth birthday present. “Although,” I hesitated then, thinking twice about telling him the incident with one of Brianna’s friends. But I shook that thought free, not wanting to have any secrets from my husband. “There was one morning when our neighbor’s son fell off and injured his arm in two places.”

When I paused the conversation, I heard Jamie take in a sharp intake of breath. His grip on little Jemmy, still distracted but now with the fastening of his grandfather’s breeks, seemed to tighten as if he was imagining my story coming to life.

“After that happened, we…I…” I didn’t want to bring up Frank in this conversation. “Brianna’s trampoline had a gauze around the outside. So she couldn’t fall off.”

“Did it then,” Jamie nodded, his attention turning back to the baby.

“It did,” I leaned into him, sharing his enthusiasm in looking at the infant. Jemmy made sure that even with our conversation quietening, there was still noise in the room as he screeched until Jamie stood him like I’d held him before.

Said screeching quickly turned into baby laughter as Jemmy started to kick again, this time aimed at his grandfather’s loins.

“Och ye wee bugger,” Jamie said, though not really cross. By Jamie’s stance, it would rather be more of a tap to his leg than anything he could feel pain from. He let out a chuckle that came right from his stomach as he continued to watch Jemmy dance on his toes. “I dinna ken who invented such a thing Sassenach but,” Jamie’s fingers lightly pinched our grandchild’s baby rolls so he giggled. “I feel like one.”

“Ha,” I stood abruptly and took hold of Jemmy again, my hands resting around his –now, I realized, rather soggy bottom. “I think I’ll take you back to Mama,” babysitting duties were fair share but it was down to Brianna to deal with the matter of a soiled wrap.

When I had a solid hold of Jemmy once more, I felt rather than saw Jamie as he stood behind me. One of his arms curved around my back and I could already feel myself melting into him, though I was still wary of the wriggly squawky infant in my arms.

“I like it when ye tell me tales of times to come Sassenach,” he half-whispered, his warm breathing tickling my earlobe. “I like it verra much.”

He’d never told me of such a notion before. Truth, I scarcely discussed inventions of the future in front of him aside from perhaps those in the medical field. Save for the mention of not-yet invented medicinal terms I preferred not to mention in front of my first husband. Sometimes it was a reminder that we’d spent so much time apart and there was still a time of my life that was spent without him. A time I delighted in not thinking about.

Jamie’s hand pinching at my bottom brought me free from my thoughts and a noise erupted from my throat to join Jemmy’s squeals, a tone of surprise. I could hear Jamie giggling at what he’d caused.

“What is it, Sassenach?” Evidently, he’d noticed that I’d gone quiet.

“I hadn’t realized that you liked to talk of such things,” I confessed, shrugging. Sometimes even the mention of my future husband, Frank, was enough for Jamie to clam up. He liked not to show it but I knew him, and it was obvious to me even if it wasn’t to anybody else.

Jamie sighed, his eyes dropping before they met with mine again and his pupils grew larger. His lips gently touched the top of my forehead and even after he’d backed away my skin grew hot. “I dinna like to think about the years we spent apart Claire,” the address sounded unusual considering it wasn’t the name he usually called me. “But I dinna wanna take away the memories ye have of that time.”

He began to walk towards the door so I couldn’t see his face. It seems Jamie Fraser often has a way with words that could render me speechless and there only seemed to be one reply I could give him.

“Jamie,” I walked towards him, closing the gap between us. “I do love you.”

“Och,” the tips of my husband’s ears looked like they’d heightened, like they always did when he was smiling. “And I, you,” he faced me now, echoing the exact words he’d used when we’d first told each other that. “Come Sassenach, and we’ll take wee Jemmy back to his parents. There’s something I want to show you.”


	2. Hearing Aid

It felt as though I rather spent longer in the surgery than my home nowadays but it came as no surprise given the time of year. Winter decided to settle early at the Ridge and with it, brought bouts of coughs, colds and fever. I was rather accustomed to a large number of patients settling into my surgery, awaiting a possible cure I could give them. 

For the large majority, said cure involved ordering bed-rest, especially for those who'd spent their days outside. It was rare, then, at this time, that I was presented a patient requiring something different. 

It was on such an afternoon that I was tending to a Mistress having such severe cold symptoms her nose had taken to constant bleeding. My rag had been stooped in sharp vinegar and - though my patient had squawked a few times- I used a flame to burn it, blowing gently so the smoke was aimed towards her nostrils. A trick that had stuck in my mind since the beginning of my studies: such an action was designed to stem the blood flow so she could in fact sit upright without a gush of red liquid down the face. 

"There," I said, satisfied with my work. "That should do it." With a further instruction to hold a tight pinch at the top of her nose, I sent her on her way. 

"Ugg, thank ye Mrs Fraser," my patient said, clearing her throat of remaining mucus that had clogged there. I watched the young woman as she retreated out of my work room. 

Hands on hips, I blew upwards to my brow in an attempt to shift the lose curls that had stuck there, perspiration to blame. Though the colder temperatures were making a home at the Ridge, the amount of bodies occupying my surgery currently meant there was human heat. A thick aroma of body odour. 

My eyes drifted amongst the sea of people- the majority of whom, today anyway, men of the colonies that had heard of my reputation as a medic. I was rather thankful my surgery was absent of young mothers and their babes because their health was somewhat at risk in the frostier months. I knew that much from experience. 

It was then that I spotted the familiar silhouette of a large Highlander making his way through the mass of patients, his destination obvious. Me. 

"Jamie," I smiled at the sight of him, as he came into my view. He'd been tending to his aunt's correspondences since this morning and he looked slightly dishevelled. Still, there was a softness in his expression and I took pleasure in the fact it was a look reserved only for me. 

"Mo nighean donn," Jamie nodded, lowering his face to kiss me. I stood on my toes to return it, one of my hands reaching towards his face. I was vaguely aware of the unpleasant aroma I probably gave off but at that moment, he didn't seem to care. 

It was the moment I pulled away that I noticed my husband wasn't alone. Standing beside Jamie was a short unfamiliar man with an odd expression. He studied me greatly yet didn't speak, so Jamie did. 

"Sassenach," he cleared his throat, stepping closer to me and one away from the third company. "This here is a Mr Douglas from up 'yond in the foothills. I ken ye will be able to help him." 

I frowned. Upon first inspection there seemed nothing wrong with the man. Save from the fact he hadn't spoken a word or ceased with the continuous staring, Mr Douglas displayed nothing out of ordinary. Certainly none of the symptoms most other occupants of the room showed. 

Sensing my hesitation upon discovering the problem, Jamie made a noise from the back of his throat- a rather obnoxious one and bent slightly, as though to speak directly in my ear. 

"I dinna ken what's up wi the bugger," his breathy tone tickled my lower earlobe. "Can ye tell, Sassenach, if a lad's got something in 'is ear?" 

"What?" Anything I'd expected Jamie to say, that wasn't it. "Jamie, whatever do you mean?" 

He couldn't help but laugh at my reaction and a rather throaty chortle escaped him, the presence of which made his upper body vibrate. "I kent ye would say that," he said when he'd stopped. "I'm askin' if Doug needs his lugs washin'," Jamie gestured to the man's ears. "He was wi' me and Fergus gathering forage," he still spoke quietly so only I could hear. "But the shite wouldna listen to a damn sentence Sassenach, and I wanna ken why." 

I blew out a breath. "I guess I could take a look," with a finger, I summoned Mr Douglas and watched as he slumped into the stool beside me. As always with a general medical examination, I opened his mouth and searched around, finding nothing out of place. 

"Aye, that's a canny place to start," Jamie put in, folding his arms across his chest. "Och, the man can fine stare at ye but he willna open his mouth tae speak tae ye," Jamie turned toward my new patient then, frowning. "If there isna a thing wrong wi' him, he coulda least open his gob!" 

As Jamie spoke, I closer inspected Mr Douglas' throat and ears. Though there was little more than normal build-up of earwax, there were no bumps, scrapes or extra crevices. But what Jamie detailed rang an alarm bell in my mind. 

I took a step away from the patient, watched his actions that followed. It occurred to me that Mr Douglas hadn't so much as peeped whilst I looked over him. And now he was merely sitting motionless, his eyes wandering aimlessly around the room. 

"Jamie," I echoed my husband's stance, my arms crossed over my breast. "Did it never occur to you that perhaps the young man cannot hear?" 

"Pfft," Jamie made a noise, dismissing my conclusion at first. Then I watched as he swallowed, his arms again at his sides when he came to realization. "Sassenach, ye dinna mean..." 

"He's deaf," I said. "I think he's deaf." 

Jamie spoke after a few seconds. "Aye," he said, as though my diagnosis had become blatant obvious. "That'll be right, then." 

I patted my patient's shoulder and he eventually stood, facing both of us. I wasn't particularly certain the sign form of communication was yet universal, not that I was familiar with any of it. Instead, I waved a hand towards him in friendly greeting, although we'd already been in one another's company for a short time. 

In response, I was surprised to discover that Mr Douglas was smiling and waved back. It gave me the feeling that he appreciated the attention. His mood looked to be lifted even though he still didn't speak. 

"Sassenach," Jamie interrupted, his gaze flitting between the two of us. "Ye dinna have a cure?" 

I think he knew the answer before I said it. "Unfortunately no," I replied, somewhat sadly. Whether Mr Douglas had been born without hearing or he'd rather lost it in combat, I wasn't to know. There would be materials to better communication through vibrations and what- I knew that much- but I didn't have access to such things. 

"What are ye thinkin'?" Jamie asked, and I watched him as he attempted to work out my look. 

I didn't want to share with him what I was thinking and I hated myself for thinking it. Because in that fleeting moment, thinking only as a medical professional, I could have attempted to help his hearing if... 

"Yer thinkin' ye coulda fixed him if ye were in yer future self aren't ye, Sassenach?" 

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I watched Mr Douglas as he fidgeted for a moment before occupying himself with the sights of my medical kit. His eyes seemed to glisten at the sight of my shiny utensils. Eyes like an eagle. _Was it right- the proverb that claimed the loss of one sense made the others stronger?_ There seemed no restriction in his eyesight. 

"Hearing aids," I said quietly, and it caught Jamie's attention. "They're called hearing aids." 

"Aye?" Jamie spoke rather softly but still loud enough so I could hear him above the lull of the other patients in the room. "I think that one tells ye what is it fair fine. But ye can tell me 'bout it if ye'd like?" 

He reached for my hand then, pulling me towards the dressing table I used for open wounds. He pushed on my shoulder until my bottom rested upon it and dropped himself into the bench that accompanied it, still having a firm grasp on my hand. 

I hesitated to at first, not wanting to speak of a time that no longer existed for either of us. My home, and my heart, were here now. But Jamie was looking at me with an expression of genuine interest and intrigue that I couldn't deny him the short tale. 

I can't be sure exactly how they work," I began, and it was the truth. "There was still work on the invention when I came back through the stones," This much was true- or rather, there were still trials at the hospital to check of their benefits. I scuttled towards Jamie then, my hand caressing a few of the curls that lay at his temple. "There's a small aide that's fitted up here," my fingers rather massaged the area I spoke of, behind his ear, in an attempt to show him. 

"Och Sassenach," he spoke with his eyes closed. "I like that." 

"I know," I smiled, aware of the action I was doing. It was one I often performed on other parts of the body to relax my husband's muscles and it scarcely went without a strange variation of noises escaping Jamie's throat. 

"Ye can tell me more." 

"Mhm," I obliged, now tapping my index finger against the side of his head. "This aid can change the noise level depending on how loud or close it is. They use cells and parts of the ear that can't work on their own." 

I kept the explanation short, not wanting to overload my husband with information from a time he would never experience. Part of the reason half of me never wanted to talk about it: the thought again of living in a time without him, I couldn't think of it. 

"Tell me, how de they stay up there?" he gestured. 

"They curve with the skin," I told him, looking at his face as he took in the new information. Impressive for somebody who ceased to knew such a thing would exist. 

"Yer like a walking book, Sassenach," his eyes were open again. 

I knew he meant it as a compliment but I burst out laughing. I swallowed then and shuffled position until I dropped into his lap. Jamie's hands quickly wrapped around me in an embrace. We were just out of sight of others in my surgery so right now, I didn't care what he said. Or did. 

"I cannae believe ye ken how to fix a deaf ear Claire," he looked at me directly but it felt more than that- like he was staring into my soul. "Ye ken what I think of a lass that kens 'er way round a body," this came with a sneaked slap of my bottom. 

"I think I could work that out," I smirked, my face moving closer to his own. It was a risky move, given where we were, but Jamie had that affect on me. In a swift move he'd whisked my hair to the side and was kissing me on the lips, a move that had the capability to make me forget my own damn name. Then, rather too quickly, he'd stood up to full height and I sat again on my worktop. 

"Yer tales of the future are interesting, Sassenach," Jamie confessed with a small laugh. "But I suppose I better let ye get back tae ye work 'cause I need tae get back tae mine." He blew out a breath as he looked down at me, something that let me know he didn't _really_ wanna get to work. Or leave me be. Ahem. 

"Yes," I agreed. "Leave Douglas with me." My mind was already racing through possibilities of communication, maybe borrowing Brianna's charcoal to draw what he wanted to portray. Something told me he didn't want to talk to us. 

My eyes averted away just in time to witness a man vomiting up his insides in the opposite corner. "I... oh!" The professional - and rather rational- sector of my brain told me to stop getting distracted by my husband. Not before, though, whispering a final comment only for him into his ear. 

The tips of his ears blushed first, before the rest of his face followed, joining with the pink coloring. I revelled in the fact I could still have an effect on him, like he could with me. Jamie straightened up his shirt and breeks and turned on his heels to back out of the surgery. A few seconds later he turned back to me, throwing a wink in my direction. My flush joined his. 

"Mhm," I spoke to myself, rubbing my hands together in preparation for more patients. "There's clearly nothing the matter with your hearing, James Fraser."


	3. Bra

A long day in surgery always meant my hands were sore by the end of it. Not just my hands though, but other parts of my body as well. I'd be spending hours fixing up my patients and paying little attention to the affect the hard work was having on my own.

It was no secret that I wasn't getting any younger but I tended not to listen when my body was telling me it needed a break. And so, my muscles seemed to relax themselves upon my exit from the surgery, a sign I was leaving any stress of the work day behind me.

I had already begun to undress from my uniform before I even reached the bedroom. The linen cloth that accompanied my outfit- a material adorning the blood, sweat and tears of my patients- was usually the first to be removed. The garment would need to be washed so it could serve its purpose again the next day. I had time to do that though and draped it across a carved chair that Jamie had gifted me. Another one of his thoughtful presents that showed off one of his countless talents: an eye for furniture carving.

I ran a hand across the back of it, my fingers feeling for the different grooves and bumps, the way he'd smoothed over the wood it make it comfortable to sit on. A smile curved its way across my lips, the way it always did when thoughts drifted to my husband. Rather than dwelling for too long in those thoughts, my attention instead turned to my makeshift headwear.

For weeks now, I'd modelled a sort of bandana, made from an old piece of cloth. Though it was merely more than a rag, it did indeed serve its purpose. It prevented the largest portion of my curls falling free so they wouldn't work against me or make me sweat even more. Most of the time when I removed it in the evenings, it acted as a reminder of the workload that I'd dealt with during the day. Instead of the bodily odors and fluids of my patients, it was my own.

I tugged at the tight knot I'd secured it with at the back of my head and the thing unravelled, my brown hair springing free. I suppose it looked even wilder than it would have been in the morning and I pulled the hairpins so it was left completely wildered. I shook my head from side to side in a bid to get back to natural state and ran a finger through the curls to separate them. My headpiece would need rinsing through too but I wouldn't have to do that one right away, knowing I had several of these rags that could be used for such jobs. I paused for a moment, feeling the curls drop as they tickled the back of my neck.

Next I fiddled with the fastenings of my outfit, a gush of fresh air rushing into my lungs when I did so. A medic's uniform was a whole world away from the corsets and such I'd worn in France but it still filled me with glee to have my assets free from the material. In the privacy of my own bedroom I could revel in the fact I was bare. As I discarded the skirts and shirt from my upper body, I could feel the cold air through the bandage that I had wrapped around my chest. Something I'd created to keep my breasts close to my chest as I tended away to patients. The more hidden they were, the less likely I was to have drunken men- or women, there'd been a few- looking on at them. There would only ever be one person that I wanted looking at them anyway.

As my thoughts turned suddenly to my husband, my body instantly reacted the way it always did when Jamie came to mind. It certainly wasn't the cold air that hardened my nipples and caused my breasts to take shape. Biting my lower lip, I failed to realize that my hands had taken on a life of their own and were pressed against them, a treatment they deserved after being bandaged up all day. My eyes slid closed and I swallowed: appreciating my body was something I didn't do enough.

"Sassenach," the low tone came from behind me and a surprised gasp escaped from my mouth. "What the devil....are ye doin'?"

He knew perfectly well what I was doing because he'd performed such an act on me a lot of times before. I spun around, my hands spread across my breasts, to face my husband. Jamie stood resting against the doorframe, his large silhouette blocking out most of the light. Not enough so I couldn't see his face though, one side of his mouth positioned higher than the other in a smirk, his head cocked to the side. In answer to his question, I shrugged and his eyes narrowed in what I first thought was confusion but what was definitely something else.

In a swift move- although time seemed to be moving quite slow- he'd stepped inside the room, slamming the door behind him to shut off the outside world. So that it was only the two of us, the way I liked it to be.

I noticed how Jamie clenched then unclenched his fingers as he walked to close the gap between us. No sooner had he reached me when his open palms were over mine in a desire, a need, a protection. He stood behind me, the warmness of his body pressed into mine. As he spoke again, his words were merely more than a hot whisper in my ear.

"If there's any kneadin' of yer breasts to be done, I'll be the one to do it, aye?"

I pulled away my hands so his could roam free across my body. I hesitated, stood still for a moment until a low noise came from deep within him. Then I turned again so we were face to face, my own free hands wrapping slowly around his neck. My doing so also meant our chests were pressed together.

"Sassenach," he repeated, this time with a furrow in his brow. "Yer breasts are like hard rocks," the comment didn't stop his fingers on them though as he trapped my nipples between his fingers. The contrast of my tender skin against the rough callouses of his hard-working hands sent a shiver right through me.

"That's because they're bound tight to my chest all day," I told him, motioning towards the clothing I'd left on the side of the chair.

"Aye?" His eyebrows shot up and he removed his hands. He pulled away slightly to free himself of his own garments. Not wanting to let him do it alone, I tugged against Jamie's shirt, worked the material down the length of his muscly arms until they were bare.

"Wouldn't ye rather they could breathe Claire?" His hands- along with his eyes this time- were back to my breasts again, but much more tenderly, the tip of his finger brushing gently across the bud.

"Oh and I suppose you would be alright with the male counterpart of my patients looking at me like that?" I said, knowing I would receive a reaction.

He stiffened momentarily before appearing to brush off my comment. Then he lowered his face to kiss me, his tongue tracing the line of my lip. "Och Sassenach, when ye put it like that. I just dinna want ye to be in pain, ye ken?"

"I know," and I did, because if there was one thing for certain, it was the fact that my husband did love me. He was willing to put himself in danger, do anything to ensure my happiness. "But it's not so bad really, they're just a little sore."

"I'll see to that," Jamie whispered, his left hand tracing up to my shoulder and down my arm to grasp my fingers. He guided us both towards the bed and gestured for me to sit- or perhaps lay- down. I figured it was the latter so let my head fall quietly against the pillows, assuming my husband was about to join me. I lay flat on my back, my eyes drifting first to the ceiling and then back to Jamie. No sooner than he'd removed his own boots, stockings and breeks did he come to join me. He eased onto the edge of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow so the other hand was free. Instead of using that though, Jamie lowered his face towards my bare chest and moved his lips in light caress across my fair breast.

As he paid close attention to each inch of my cups, I couldn't help but run a hand through his curls, an asset of his that I could never resist. The movement only excited him though as I suddenly felt his teeth nipping me.

"Jamie," my teeth were gritted: it would normally be a move of his that I adored but this time it shot right through me. Perhaps I was feeling more tender than I first realized.

It took Jamie a minute to surface but when he did, his expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry mo ghraidh," he shifted to no longer being on top of me but rather at my side. His hand dropped lower so it now rested against my stomach. "I didn't mean to hurt ye."

"It's alright," I reassured him, knowing it wouldn't have hurt me normally. I was also slightly annoyed that what I'd said caused him to get off me because that was where I liked him to be. And it meant the moment was over. I turned on my side to face him, smiling.

His hand moved further down, towards my hip and then he tightened his grip to move me closer.

"Ye cannae have still been in pain like this in the future, no?"

"Well no," I said, one of my hands rubbing up and down against the stubble on his face. As we aged together, the color was fading but that wasn't a matter to me. A few more grey hairs but he was still aging with grace. Which only made him all the more handsome.

"...and I dinna suppose ye just walk around wi' them hangin' free?" Jamie chuckled, his thumb and forefinger circling the very things he was talking about. I noticed my nipple as it shrunk in size and hardened beneath his touch. As it did so, I tensed when he replaced his fingers with his mouth and sucked, enough to make me cry out.

"If you want me to tell you," I managed. "You're going to have to stop that."

For a minute, I was sure he wasn't going to, his face disappearing between my breasts and his fingers intrigued by my naked inner thighs. Then I felt a penultimate kiss of his lips before our eyes locked again.

"Tell me Sassenach," Jamie said, his fine hair now resting against the headboard. "Yer tellin' me ye dinna need to bandage up those fine breasts of yours in yer time?"

"Women were a bra," I told him, confused by his reaction of somewhat childish laughter.

"A bra," he repeated the phrase, a foreign one to him, and snorted. "Ye ken that word makes ye sound like a sheep?"

I joined his laughter then, having never thought of it in such a way. Jamie had a point: his Scottish tongue did make the noun closely resemble the animal's sound. He proceeded to repeat the word several times as though growing accustomed to it, his tongue paying particular attention to the rolling sound of the 'r'. Which of course made the phrase sound even more seductive than it was meant to be.

After Jamie had had his fun with the pronunciation, he leaned against an open palm, still balanced up on one elbow. "But what must it look like?" His furry brow scrunched and he took a quick glance towards my makeshift bra of this century. "It canna be all that different from this thing, no?"

"Actually it's quite different," I told him, moving into a sitting position. I had half a mind to go searching for some of Brianna's writing charcoal to sketch him a diagram but didn't want to move either of us. Jamie had startled slightly as I'd moved so i repositioned his hand to rest on my thigh. Working away from each other daily made me want to touch him at every opportunity I got. "They are made dependent on the size-"

Jamie interupted me and scoffed. "I ken by the size of yer own Sassenach, that it might tek a while."

I swatted at his hand and he retreated- though only temporarily as the wandering hand was soon back. So I continued.

"They cover the chest like this," I showed him. "The straps go across here and there's a hook at the back. To keep it in place. And there's a wire to hold them up."

Jamie nodded, a signal of his intense listening. His eyebrows shot up when I mentioned the wire although he didn't make a comment. "I think I ken. It doesna sound verra romantic though, Sassenach," he looked puzzled, scratching against his temple. He was watching my face as I shrugged. "I'm wrong, no?"

"I guess if you want romantic, you could choose not to wear one."

"Aye," he let out a loud gulp. "And that would mean yer nipples would be staring me in the face?"

I could almost see the cogs working in his brain, his imagination turning to a world where I existed without him. A possible chance that his thoughts were turning to Frank and other men of his time, their focus zoomed towards my chest area.

"Jamie," I opened a palm to caress the side of his face. "These are for nobody but you," I worked to reassure him, my face edging slowly closer towards his.

He smiled, a half-smirk that tugged at his mouth and made his eyes shine like the sun. He moved the rest of the way to kiss me, pulling me down towards him.

"I ken that for sure now Sassenach," he whispered in my ear. "But i still like to hear about what exists in a time to come. Ye can tell me more, no?"

"Another time maybe," I brought our conversation to an abrupt end and lay against him- naked skin against naked skin- as he took me home, home and home again as though there was nobody in the world but us.


End file.
